The earth underneath the training dummy, a reinforced fabric doll that wasn’t modeled after any Pokémon in particular, shuddered as Kōjin focused on it.

  “Steady now.” I said as my Hisuian Growlithe concentrated. “You’ve almost got it!”

  With a groan of rocks grinding against each other, pillars of stone erupted out of the ground, closing in around the dummy’s legs and lower body.

  “Good job!”

  Kōjin panted, exhaustion mixing with excitement.

  Two days ago we had gone to the Pokémon Center and had used the TM machine to teach Kōjin the move. While he was learning Rock Tomb, I had quietly asked the nurse who was managing the machine if I could use the TM for another Pokémon in the future. Venus couldn’t learn it right now, but maybe if I got another team member they might be able to.

  The answer was as disappointing as it was expected - no, a Technical Machine was a one-time use object.

  The reasoning behind the answer was rather unexpected.

  Theoretically, there was no limit to a Technical Machine’s information sharing capabilities. The disc could be reused time and again if need be. The problem came in the form of copyright.

  Apparently, moves copied onto TMs counted as copyrighted material, and were legally only available to be used once. The TM Machine in the Pokémon Center read Kōjin’s registration number that was attached to his Poké Ball and left a note on his file with the unique ID code for this copy of Rock Tomb. If I, or anybody else, tried to insert this disk into another licensed TM Machine, the system would flag the fact that the ID had already been used, and simply fail to transfer the information.

  According to the nurse, there were third-party TMs and readers out there, but they didn’t have the same guarantees of quality and safety. Team Rocket had actually made a lot of money ripping off Trainers who were desperate to teach their Pokémon a powerful move for less money than a legitimate TM.

  It all sounded like a big scam to me, just another version of DRM, but there was nothing I could do about it.

  There were some anti-trust movements in Unova that were currently gaining traction, but it might be a couple years before anything came of it.

  Ted had grumbled about the fact that it was due to Silph Co.’s corporate interests influencing the Pokémon League when the TMs first became available when I mentioned it to him later.

  In terms of the move itself… Kōjin was having some troubles.

  It wasn’t a matter of power, or that he wasn’t able to pull off the move at all.

  As far as I could tell, he was doing everything the way he was supposed to, a fact confirmed by both Ted and Lucas.

  No, the problem was that he wasn’t able to pull off the move quickly enough. After most of two day’s practicing, Kōjin could reliably get the move off in less than five seconds.

  He wasn’t slow, not by any means, but in a battle where seconds could feel like hours, Kōjin needed to be faster.

  “That was really good.” I knelt down by his side and scratched at his ears. “Do you think you can keep going?”

  Kōjin cocked his head and concentrated, I could feel the muscles bunching up in his neck as he tried to channel the Type Energy, but he was all tapped out.

  “That’s okay. We’ll try again in a little bit once you’re feeling more rested. Come on, want to check on the others?”

  He looked up at me with a tired doggy grin, and I gave him another scratch before standing up.

  It was a short walk over to the battling courts, where Ted was currently in a friendly match with Lucas. They were both trying to get their new Pokémon accustomed to official Pokémon battles, and their training regimes showed their experience a lot more than mine did.

  Kōjin had been with me for weeks now, and I was just now comfortable with him being able to participate in an official Gym match.

  Lucas was already planning to use Kyūdō, the Dartrix he had found, in his match against Roark, and the two were working together surprisingly well. Silver, Ted’s Cleffa, wasn’t in the roster to go up against any of Roark’s Pokémon, but that was thanks to the fact that it was a bad type matchup instead of anything else.

  The issue I kept running into was that while I had a decent foundation in the theory and mechanics of Pokémon battling, thanks to having played the games where there were actual numbers attached to things, Ted and Lucas simply had more practical experience. They had grown up with Pokémon, had learned in school how to help take care of and train Pokémon, and to them, it was as easy as riding a bike.

  I was learning everything about training Pokémon from scratch, and it showed.

  Kyūdō was currently practicing its aiming skills, while Silver was working on dodging. The little Cleffa was surprisingly good at getting out of the way of the attacks, but every now and again it would make a cute oof noise as it was hit by one of Kyūdō’s attacks.

  According to Lucas, the hardest thing he’d had to deal with Kyūdō was teaching him not to make the same kind of overwhelming killing blows that the Dartrix would normally use in the wild.

  As for my own Pokémon, Venus was currently sitting in the Pokémon Center under the ministrations of a particularly enthusiastic Blissey, the result of a misguided attempt to try and make her Quick Attack go faster.

  Meanwhile, Zetian was actually off doing her own thing. She had expressed an interest in going back to the nest where I had first met her, and was currently learning from her mother the best way to control the colony of bees in her abdomen.

  I would be going back there tomorrow to pick her up, but it had been made clear to me in no uncertain terms by the Vespiquen that while I was honored for saving the hive, the training was for Pokémon only.

  All of that meant I had been able to spend one-on-one time with Kōjin, which was nice.

  I sighed and put my hands on my hips, staring at the shape of Roark’s Gym just a few blocks away. It wasn’t the tallest building in the city, but it had a certain presence, a weight that grabbed your attention.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  The feeling hadn’t been there the last time I was in the city, but I hadn’t been about to challenge the Gym either.

  Kōjin whuffed quietly as he sat down next to me. It was hard to see, but underneath the rock-like hair I could see his eyes staring at the building as well.

  “That’s our goal.” I said.

  He let out a quiet bark.

  “I don’t know if we’re ready.”

  The words were hard to say. I had been nervous before the fight with Gardenia, but that had been due to nerves. I hadn’t thought myself able to take part in a public Battle like that. My anxiety had mostly settled by now, even though there was still a lingering sense of unease.

  No, it was difficult to say because I honestly didn’t know if we were able to take on Roark. Zetian was at a massive disadvantage, Kōjin was inexperienced, and while Venus was my strongest Battler, it was hard to know if it would be enough.

  A paw batted at my leg, and I looked down to see Kōjin panting happily, small wisps of smoke coming out of his mouth with each breath.

  “What?”

  He barked, a doggy grin across his face.

  “You think we’re ready?”

  Kōjin barked again, and I couldn’t help the small smile that spread across my face. I reached into a pocket and pulled out a cube of smoked Slowpoke tail meat that had been mixed with charcoal - the treat of choice for many Fire-type Pokémon, Kōjin included.

  While I still had my reservations about eating Pokémon, I did recognize that Pokémon themselves had certain dietary needs that couldn’t always be supplanted with vegetarian options. It might have been a bit hypocritical, but that was something I was able to accept.

  Besides, I’d gotten it on good authority that this brand of treats were sustainably farmed. Apparently, the unethical farming of Slowpoke tails had dropped exponentially ever since Team Rocket’s operations had been busted.

  Kōjin’s tail drummed out a rapid beat as he stared at the treat, and I tossed it into the air for him. He jumped up with a bark, snatching the cube and chewing on it happily.

  Even if we aren’t ready, we’ll do our best. And really, isn’t that all that matters?

  I caught myself, laughing at the thought.

  Now I actually sound like a Pokémon protagonist.

  /^\

  Roark’s Gym wasn’t what I had expected. The lobby had been fairly standard as far as I could tell, but that was mostly to be expected. The waiting room, on the other hand, was definitely not what I had imagined when I thought of “Rock-type Gym.”

  That brought up images of boulders, pickaxes, yellow-and-black caution paint, heavy machinery, and the rest.

  What Roark had decided to go with reminded me more of a therapist’s office.

  Warm colors and soft lighting were the name of the game, and I was currently sitting on an incredibly comfortable armchair. There was a part of me that wanted to ask Roark where he had gotten it from, until I realized that I was technically homeless right now.

  In terms of tax purposes, I was operating out of Professor Rowan’s lab back in Sandgem Town, but that was more of a paperwork issue. I doubted he would be happy about me shipping an armchair to his lab, although I was pretty sure he would store it for me regardless.

  There was even a radio in the waiting room playing some soft jazz.

  It was an interesting change of pace from Gardenia’s greenhouse, although it didn’t seem to be very reassuring to the young man who was anxiously twisting his hands together.

  “First time?” I asked, and the kid almost jumped into the air.

  “Y-yeah.” He said, voice breaking halfway through the word.

  “Second for me.”

  “Really?”

  He looked a little suspicious, but I nodded. “First one was Gardenia.”

  “Oh, wow.” The boy said, eyes sparkling. “She’s really h- cool!”

  I gave him a soft stare. “Hot” was probably what he was going to say, at least until he realized he was talking to a girl as well.

  The kid looked to be about fifteen or sixteen years old, so it definitely was that.

  It wasn’t like I didn’t understand what he was talking about, but my stomach still turned every time I thought of her choice of sandwiches.

  “Yeah. If you challenge her, keep an eye on the weather.”

  The boy frowned in confusion, but I decided it would probably be better to let him find out for himself.

  A door opened on the other side of the waiting room.

  “Mr. Tanaka?” A man said, and the boy jolted. “The Gym Challenge is ready for you.”

  “A-already?” He stood up, and his hand-wringing became just that much more frantic.

  “Yes sir. If you would come this way please…”

  “Good luck.” I called, and the boy gave me a small wave as he disappeared into the recesses of the Gym.

  I took the moment offered by the emptiness of the room to take a deep breath, letting it out.

  I still didn’t think we were completely ready for the fight, but at the same time… I wasn’t nearly as nervous as I could have been.

  At this point, I had gone up against a criminal intent on killing me several times, as well as wild Pokémon that didn’t understand the concept of “holding back lethal blows.”

  The fact of the matter was that a monitored Battle with a referee and Pokémon able to step in to make sure things didn’t get too bad was a very pleasant change in pace from a Tentacruel that had been going to eat me.

  I wasn’t excited for the fight, not like some of the Trainers who lived for Gym Battles, but I wasn’t dreading it either.

  “Ah, right.” I muttered to myself, reaching into my purse.

  My bag was back in the Pokémon Center, and I was again wearing the black pencil skirt and white blouse that I had challenged Gardenia in.

  I pulled out and tugged on the pair of fingerless gloves before my battle. They looked a bit incongruous compared to the rest of my outfit, but I didn’t mind that much.

  The next twenty minutes passed quickly enough, and a new challenger entered the waiting room with me - a grizzled looking man still in his mining clothes.

  We exchanged a few polite words, until the receptionist came back out and called for me.

  I stood up, straightened my skirt, and followed the man out into the arena proper.

  Like Gardenia’s Gym, it looked like a fairly typical Battling court, although Roark had put his own touches on it.

  Instead of the skylight of the Eterna City Gym, Roark had instead installed massive work lights like those I had seen in the mines, and I briefly wondered if they would respond to weather moves properly.

  The asphalt-like floor had also been ripped up like Eterna, but instead of real dirt and grass, Roark had gone with stone and rock instead, with numerous boulders embedded in the ground at random intervals.

  The man himself was standing at the podium across the court from me, clad in his standard hi-vis outfit.

  Instead of going through the full gauntlet, I had just scheduled a single fight with the Leader, skipping all the rigamarole.

  The referee stepped up to the edge of the court, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Baltoy beginning to set up a barrier to protect the crowd.

  “This will be an official match,” she began. “The rules will be held in accordance with Pokémon League regulations. It is a two-on-two match, with one substitution per Trainer, and no items used. Do both of you understand?”

  My eyebrow raised. I’d thought that this would be a three-on-three, but apparently not.

  It was an easy choice on which of my Pokémon would be left out. Zetian was far too vulnerable to risk in a match like this.

  “I understand.” I said, and Roark parroted me.

  “Trainers, are you ready?”

  “Always.” Roark said confidently.

  I took a breath, and my hand settled on Venus’ Poké Ball.

  My plan was mostly the same as my battle with Gardenia, let Venus take care of what she could, then finish the fight with my trump card in the form of Kōjin.

  “Ready.”

  “Release your Pokémon!”